


Folsom Prison Blues

by XoXLexLoveXoX



Series: The Legend Of [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:18:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XoXLexLoveXoX/pseuds/XoXLexLoveXoX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prison setting. Spring storms confide the group to the dingy cellblocks. Not everyone is displeased with is however, as everyone knows, story nights are perfect cuddle weather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Folsom Prison Blues

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing

~I hear the train a comin'  
It's rolling round the bend  
And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when,  
I'm stuck in Folsom prison, and time keeps draggin' on~

It was nights like this that had the group rethinking the idea of holding onto the prison so tightly. The dull gray of the walls were darkened to a near black in the late fall night. Heavy rain had begun to fall yesterday mid-evening and had yet to lighten up. Through the bar windows the yard could be seen, flooded and miserable. The only thing that provided light were the slow burning kerosene lamps, placed about the cells and common area, and the occasional crack of blinding lightning.  
The group ate inside that night, a meager stew scrapped together for nutrition rather than flavor. The cool dank air clung to everyone's skin, small talk being the only thing that brought them comfort. People from Woodbury were sectioned together, not yet familiar with the survival group from Atlanta. While the others lounged about, used to the steely depressing feeling in side of the prison that came along with harsh weather.  
The sun had set shortly after their meal, casting the concrete fortress into shadows.  
Glenn had just left to relieve Michonne of watch duty, when the first members excused themselves for bed. With the raging storm, no one made an attempt to do any outside work, opting to sleep through the boredom.  
Rick, however, possessed no desire to sleep yet, deciding instead to make a list of any supplies they would soon need. He said his good nights to the group, patting his son lovingly on the shoulder and placing a kiss upon his daughters head before she was whisked away by Beth. Daryl had offered to help him but he knew that his partner had been jonesing to whittle himself some new bolts before the storm passed. He ensured the hunter that he could take care of the 'paper work' himself.  
Taking a flashlight, he made his way to the food supply first. Flashing over each item they had, he made note of what necessities they were running low on. The sheriff checked the artillery next, deciding to organize their stock in case someone needed to find something in a hurry. This process had taken a few hours as Rick busied himself with the tedious work. It wasn't until his watch read 11:14 pm that he decided he would head to bed.  
As Rick passed through the common area, he heard a rapid clattering of the rigid metal walkway within their cell block. His heart clenched for a moment in fear when he heard the butterfly-light whimpers of a baby crying. Out of habit, he hurried his steps at the distressed noise, pure darkness greeting him.  
When he heard the sound of someone gently shushing the cries, however, he let his heart rest as he realized it was not a life threatening plead that left the lungs of his baby girl.  
Rick unlocked the door, attempting to quiet the clanking echoes that came from the rusted metal.  
The dim light of Rick's flashlight intertwined with the warm glow of a kerosene lamp perched on the top step. Shadows decorated the bland gray, faintly illuminating the figure of Daryl crouched beside the dancing flame. The leader couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips at the sight. His hunter sat shirtless, cradling a cooing Judith in his arms, rocking her gently to sleep.  
Though he couldn't make out his features in the waning light, Rick was sure he had noticed his presence long before he made his slow ascent up the rickety steps. Without word, the sheriff slid the lamp over as Daryl moved to make room for him to sit beside them. Leaning into his partner, he craned his neck to study his calming daughters face. Eyelids now growing heavy, she absentmindedly grasped at Daryl's offered fingers. She appeared to take comfort in knowing that there were people there to protect her from the violent storm that had undoubtedly woken her.  
Rick suddenly felt more relaxed than he had in years, tenderly wrapping an arm around his lovers waist, pulling him in closer. He didn't look up to see the tired content in Daryl's eyes. He didn't need to. He felt it in the way he melted into his side in comfort, his usual sharp-edge walls no where to be seen. The two rested their heads together in silence, staring down at the god-given miracle blanketed in a cloud of white.  
The two sat this way for several minutes, breathing in the scent of honest peace, the only sound being caused by the rain pounding against their walls and the growing snores of baby Jude.  
"Got the artillery organized. Made a list for the next run too." Rick said, voice full of gravel as he decided to break the silence.  
"Tha's good. We're head'd out two days from now." Daryl shivered ever so slightly from the cold settling in on his skin.  
Rick noticed his tremor and ran his hand up and down the others side, attempting to warm him up to no avail. His other hand came up to rake a few fingers over his sleeping daughter rosy cheek.  
"Come on. We should prob'ly head up to bed."  
Without another word the two lazily stood. The sheriff grabbed the slow burning kerosene lamp, leading the way back to their cell. Daryl had long ago made his stay in Rick's cell after their relationship started, his place on the catwalk forgotten.  
The hunter gently laid a sleeping Judith in her makeshift crib next to their bed before plopping himself down on the rustled mattress.  
It appeared to Rick that his partner had already settled in for the night before his fussy baby had awoken him.  
He removed his boots and socks, placing them by the door. Next came his shirt. While he knew the cold would undoubtedly work its way into his muscles, he wanted nothing more than to engross himself in the head radiating off of Daryl. It was there that he knew he would be most comfortable.  
He crawled his way up from the foot of the bed, in between his favorite redneck and the stone wall. Laying on his side, he wrapped his arm around the hunters waist, pulling him in close yet again. Their legs tangled together in a growing familiarity, sharing their body heat. Rick dug his nose into the others hair and breathed in the scent that was distinctly Daryl.  
The barred windows shook with the wind and rain, filling the air with something of a lullaby. At that moment, Rick couldn't help but place butterfly-light kisses along the others nape. Daryl let out a hum of appreciation at the action, intertwining his fingers with the hand that caressed his waist. The hunter brought the claimed hand to his mouth where he offered several kisses in return. When the ex-cops pecks became more sloppy, Daryl let out a chuckle, "Don't start w'th me, Grimes. 'M too tired f'r that sh't."  
Rick continued his exploring however, making his way down Daryl's neck and onto his shoulder. The warmth of the body in his embrace was enticing. He couldn't help his mind but to wonder to all of the things they could do with the cover of the noise the storm was making. As he thought this, a flash of lightning lit up the room, followed by a crack of thunder that reverberated off the prison walls. He paused for a moment, grinning against the others skin, "Ya' sure? I could make it worth y'er while." To this, Daryl shook his head.  
After a few moments of silence Rick continued, reclaiming his hand and rubbing sensual circles into Daryl's thigh, "All this noise is a good thang', ya' know." He ran his fingers over the stiff fabric of Daryl's crotch, trying eagerly to gain a response. Daryl shifted under the touch, his lower half leaning into the touch while he dug his face into their shared pillow. He muffled his laugh as Rick continued his assault, "Rick, stop."  
Although his words were fleeting, Rick could tell that his body said otherwise.  
Daryl turned his head in an attempt to face his counterpart, "Rick." He almost whined. Well, as much as a Dixon's voice could.  
The sheriff took the opportunity to claim Daryl's mouth on his own. He lazily moved his lips over the chapped ones beside him before forcing his way on top of his partner. The kiss quickly became heated as the friction between their bare skin urged the pair on.  
There was no place in the world that Rick would rather be than here. Wrapped in a fierce battle of tongue with the one significant other that he could not live without. His baby girl safe and out of harms way, bundled up in swirl of dreams that didn't know the horrors of the outside world. Their group, their family, sound asleep, a roof over their heads and in a peace of mind, knowing that the flesh eating walkers outside had no hopes of getting in. Sensual rain washing away the blood long soaked into the Georgia soil. No worries. Just him, his love, his children, his family safe under the strong roof of their new home.

**Author's Note:**

> Woo, another one down. Had a lot of fun with this one. Hope you all enjoyed. Thank you to all those who followed me on tumblr :-) all those who still wish to, my blog is always open @alwaysdixongrimes. Just drop a message in my inbox to let me know where you came from and join me for fangirling over the season 5 premiere tomorrow! ( gaaah, I'm so excited for that!) Your support is always appreciated!


End file.
